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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29231163">freedom is sour on the tongue (DreamSMP Drabbles)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/abettafish/pseuds/abettafish'>abettafish</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Drabble Collection, Gen, Insomnia, M/M, They/Them Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Touch-Starved, Winged Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:00:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,793</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29231163</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/abettafish/pseuds/abettafish</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dream before, during, after his stay in prison. </p><p>Contains different AUs. Summaries attached to chapters, chapter titles are the inspo. If the drabbles are connected, I will indicate this.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>232</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. imprisonment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <i>Wings AU. Dream in prison.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Birds can die of loneliness, they say.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Birds can die of loneliness, they say.</p><p>Dream thinks someone told him that once, and he had <em>laughed</em>. Now, with the low, yellow and red light of his cell, he doesn’t know what he found so funny about it. His wings ache terribly, weighed down by a pair of chains. The room isn’t even big enough to contain his entire wingspan, making the tips of his feathers curve along the walls as he idles on the lava warmed floor.</p><p>It’s about the only thing that feels warm here. However, his fingertips have still somehow found a way to feel stiff from a chill that he can’t locate the source of. Even when he busies his hands with preening his feathers, they still feel clumsy and uncoordinated. There are white feathers scattered everywhere around the cell, as he can’t fathom pulling together the energy to clean it all. Why should it matter, anyways? No one visits him – Tommy and Bad being the only ones so far, and that was weeks ago. He even threw his clock into the lava again, but Sam has yet to return with another one. Maybe he acted out one too many times, maybe he simply forgot? It pinches his chest a little to think about Sam forgetting him in here. He shifts to lean against the cauldron of water and his chains jingle a tune as he does.  </p><p>He must be deep in a daydream, however, because the noise of stone against stone startles him and he whips around to find Sam standing there. The man is armored and holding his trident, but in his other hand is a small round device. Dream’s eyes light up and he gingerly holds out a hand for the timekeeper. Sam is frowning at him, heavily and saturated in disappointment. Dream’s hand falters and when Sam doesn’t move, it falls to his lap.</p><p>“You need to stop,” Sam tells him. Dream shrinks under the scolding.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” He whispers in return.</p><p>“No, you’re not. Stop saying that,” The Warden bites.</p><p>“Can I have my clock?” Dream lifts his hand again. Sam tosses the clock his way and Dream fumbles to catch it, but it lands safely in his hands and he clutches it with adoration. It’s midday, he notes.</p><p>“I won’t be getting you another one,” Sam tells him. Dream doesn’t respond, simply looks on as the dial spins, turning the day into night. He pushes himself up and places it back onto the wall, smiles, then gives it a little spin.</p><p>“And I’ll be going away to deal with some stuff, so I’m going to be setting up the automated food dispenser. Since I won’t be here, you won’t be allowed any visitors for a long while.”</p><p>Dream’s looks up, staring straight at the dark walls of his cell. A cold dread curls his gut, stirring in with a jaw tightening sadness.</p><p>“<em>Oh</em>,” The word falls from his mouth before he can gather it behind his teeth. He sounds devastated. Sam steps back onto the platform that’ll bring him back across the lava. Dream watches him depart without so much as a farewell.</p><p>He feels a loneliness leech onto his chest, and he sinks back to the balmy floor. He presses his cheek against the textured obsidian and doesn’t pay mind to the wetness along his lashes. He tries to pull his wings in, to provide some sort of calming stimulus, but the chains pull tight and he feels a feather get ripped out from the force. It hurts, and he sees a welling of red appear on the spot. He can do nothing but watch as it drips over the other white feathers. No one would be around to help wipe it away, anyhow. Sam said so, and he would be gone for an undetermined amount of time, so no one else would be coming either. His wings drift back down to their stretched position, touching from wall to wall. Sam must not know, he thinks, no one must have told him.</p><p>Birds can die of loneliness.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. insomnia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>After Dream is released from the prison, he finds it hard to sleep.</i>
</p>
<p>I'm not projecting, you are. I wake up every morning toasty and not like my nose is going to fall off. pish.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun didn’t seem so bright before and the world didn’t seem so cold. It was strange – everyone else is enjoying a relaxed day on the beach and Dream, sitting under the shade of a tree, is wrapped tightly in a warm, bright green poncho. He’s sure if he moved to the beach, it would be considerably warmer, but the thing providing the warmth also causes his eyes to water painfully. He’s resigned to picking his battles and it’s much easier to keep warm than it is to stop the sun.</p>
<p>“Doing alright?” Eret’s voice pulls his attention. Dream squints up at them, although the other can’t see that, but the halo of light surrounding Eret makes it hard to focus on them.</p>
<p>“Just…a little cold,” Dream hesitates to reveal that fact. Only really Sam and Punz knew about the effects of spending so long in the prison had on him, having to monitor him for weeks after he was let out. Dream would wonder the house, keeping the windows closed and a blanket on constantly. Sam said he’ll readjust eventually, but Dream wasn’t so sure.</p>
<p>“Cold? Really?” Eret doesn’t sound like they don’t believe him, just a little shocked. Dream nods his head.</p>
<p>“It’s hard, at least normally, for me to warm up. You know, being stuck in a box surrounded by lava for months and months can do that.” He doesn’t mean for the bitter bite at the end, but Eret takes it gracefully.</p>
<p>“Understandable. Just let me know if you need anything,” They nod their head and retreat away, down to the beach to mingle with the others. Dream rolls the peace offering over in his brain a few times. He’s been mostly relying on Sam for things, not being allowed to venture far without supervision, but maybe it would be nice to spend time with someone other than Punz or Sam.  </p>
<p>Dream stands, and from seemingly thin air, Punz appears at his side. He doesn’t say anything to the other as his relationship was rancorous with the other man since his betrayal so long ago. Even so, Punz keeps close to him as Dream makes his way back to the home Sam created for his “<em>rehabilitation</em>.” Sam is inside, which is a slight surprise since it was Punz's shift to watch him today, and he seems to be working on something involving red stone.</p>
<p>Dream approaches the other curiously and hovers over what Sam is doing like a child watching their parent. Punz wonders off, evidently not as interested. Sam spares him a small glance before continuing to lay down the red substance in intricate ways. Dream learned to stop asking what the other got up too, as half the time he was told nothing useful anyways. He didn’t have enough autonomy to be making any protests, anyways.</p>
<p>Dream, deciding to end his boredom before it began, meanders away from Sam, who watches him out of the corner of his eye. Dream doesn’t go far, simply over to the couch where a book is lain on the armrest. He flips it open, zoning out into the pages as he listens to Sam work. The sun escapes from the sky, slowly but surely, as this happens. It takes it’s warming rays with it, falling below the horizon.</p>
<p>Dream can handle watching sunsets once they’re mostly gone, and he observes it fade mournfully. If the days were chilly, then the nights were unbearable. The moon gave nothing but a luminescent glow along the trees and grass. It was beautiful, and Dream had found himself mesmerized by it for the first couple of weeks, but whatever force leeched the warmth from <em>everything</em> in sight when it rose should be cursed and damned.</p>
<p>He reads the book for a little bit longer, nearly reaching the last pages, before he notes the stiffness his fingers are experiencing. Dream frowns as he sets the book down to instead replace it with a blanket folded along the back of the couch. He gathers it up and stands to let Sam know he is going to hide away in his room for the rest of the night but finds the man having disappeared. Oh… He must have left without Dream noticing.</p>
<p>He wearily escapes to his room, not sure if Sam will appreciate him vanishing from the couch, but it isn’t like a short search wouldn’t solve that issue. He sighs as he pushes his bedroom door open, not feeling any sort of contentment with the night. He could feel that tonight would be hard – the cold already grabbing onto his body like a parasite.</p>
<p>Summer may have been easing the pains, but Dream is still plagued by the Winter nights he had to push through during his first days free from the prison. The first <em>moment </em>he had exited the prison was like a punch to the face. Snow had covered the ground that day and all he had been wearing was a thin, long sleeved shirt, pants and a pair of slip-on shoes. The shirt having only been given to him that day, in prep for him leaving in the cold. But no, they hadn’t realized how quickly the temperature would grip Dream then. By the time they had made it to the house he stands in now, Dream had been shaking and his teeth tapping out a rhythm in his mouth.</p>
<p>They had thought that would be a one off, for that day only, but the days passed, and Dream found himself ailed by the weather still. He would sit by the fire made in the home for hours, eyes closed, and hands stretched towards the heat in yearning. When the fire had to be put out, Dream would sit in his room shivering, even with multiple blankets piled on top of him. It took Sam walking in on a sleeping Dream with teeth-chattering and body trembling to realize maybe the thing making his prison impenetrable was having lasting effects.</p>
<p>Sam had provided him with warmer clothes, more blankets, and on the nights where all Dream could manage was to idle, longing for sleep, he would sit with him in front of the fire. It was nice, and the two would talk quietly to each other about mundane topics.</p>
<p>Now, entering his room, Dream finds Sam. He has the red stone machine from earlier set up next to his bed and Dream fears for a moment that it’s just another way to keep an eye on him – a way to shrink his already short chain.</p>
<p>“It’s a gift, don’t worry,” Sam tells him when he catches the way Dream is frozen in the doorway. That peaks Dream’s interest and he delicately tiptoes over to it.</p>
<p>“What is it?” He asks.</p>
<p>“To put it plainly, a room heater,” Sam flips a switch, and the thing comes to life. Dream stares at it with stars in his eyes. He places his hands near it, and nearly dies of happiness right there. The thing just started up, but Dream can already feel a small bit of heat coming off it. Sam chuckles.</p>
<p>“I figured you’d like it, since obviously the blankets aren’t cutting it and you keep stealing the ones from the living room,” Sam pointedly looks at the one around his shoulders. Dream simply acts as though he has no idea what the other is talking about. He clambers onto his bed and sits crisscross on the edge, directly next to the room heater. It feels wonderful.</p>
<p>Sam stands, “It’s on a timer, so it’ll turn off in the morning, but maybe now you’ll actually get a full night’s rest.”</p>
<p>Dream opens his mouth, but gently closes it when he decides that nothing he wants to say sounds right. Instead, he reaches up and unclasps his mask. It gets deposited onto the bedside table. Dream doesn’t like looking at himself in the mirror, but he’s sure there are terrible looking bags under his eyes. He pulls his knees to his chest and rests his cheek on them with a content sigh.</p>
<p>“I’ll take that as a thank you,” Sam smirks. Dream finds his eyes glancing up to the man. He nods small and lets his lids fall closed. His hands reach forward to feel the warm air radiating around the heater. Dream thinks he could cry right here, but those had dried up so long ago, so he doubts it.</p>
<p>“Have a good night, Dream,” Sam tells him as he closes the door with a click. There’s the sound of a lock sliding into place, the gentlest of reminders of his situation and Sam’s position over him. For right now, however, Dream can forget about that.</p>
<p>Maybe tonight won’t be sleepless.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. rain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p><i>The walls of the prison were thick, and rain was no longer a familiar face.</i> </p>
<p>Lightly connected to chapter two.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s raining; the sky having opened its arms to unleash its precious gift unto the earth in a beautiful cascade for the first time in months. Sam watches his ward stand barefoot and mask less in the downpour. Dream’s arms are stretched outwards, fingers splayed wide like he is willing to cradle the whole sky in his palms. His head is tilted back, exposing his neck in a vulnerable exhibit of longing for something missed so dearly it was painful. Dream turns, bringing his body around in a joyous dance as a laugh bubbles from his mouth. It’s the first time he’s heard the noise from Dream in almost a year.</p>
<p>It’s bittersweet.</p>
<p>Sam moves forward, stopping just before the canopy ends, where the rain rolls off the roof in a mock waterfall. It catches Dream’s eye, who stops in his joyous embrace of the sky. Sam doesn’t need to speak to convey his words with Dream. This language, commanding and in control, is well spoken between them.</p>
<p>“I would like to stay a little longer,” Dream whispers, almost lost behind the sounds of thunder making its presence known. Sam raises an eyebrow at him, asking if he is sure with the movement.</p>
<p>“Even so,” Dream mutters. Sam frowns, unsure whether he should risk Dream getting ill over a few more moments in the rain, but the fresh memory of his laughter sways his better judgement. He grants permission with a gesture of his hand. Dream perks up, turning once more to gaze out towards the sea. Sam’s spot on the porch gives him a few of a thin strip of the waters, dark from the encroaching storm clouds.</p>
<p>When he gazes back down towards Dream, the man has laid himself out on the stone path leading away from the house. His eyes are closed, and his hands are stretched upwards once again. Sam hears the door click open, close, and then another body is stopping next to him.</p>
<p>“What’s he doing?” Punz asks, arms crossed. Sam ponders his answer, because so many things apply, and Sam could never be sure which was the full truth.</p>
<p>“Experiencing, I suppose,” Sam tells him.</p>
<p>“He’s felt rain before,” Punz snorts. They watch Dream sit up, most likely tuned into the conversation while trying to appear like he isn’t. They know better than to believe that, but if this was supposed to be private then they would have gone elsewhere.</p>
<p>“Not in over a year.” Sam reminds him and Punz doesn’t respond, a resolute understanding falling over his shoulders. Dream’s turned to look at the two of them with the same annoyed, yet melancholy, look he typically has when the two of them talk about him like he isn’t there.</p>
<p>Another bout of thunder shakes the sky. The three of them gaze up, expecting to see the lightning any moment. It makes the two on the porch miss Dream standing up and approaching the overhang. Punz tenses at his suddenly close vicinity. They pause their conversation to address Dream with raised eyebrows.</p>
<p>“I’m cold,” He states. Punz rolls his eyes and walks away with a huffed snark.</p>
<p>“Of course, you are!” The door clicks closed behind the mercenary. Dream is scrunching his face at the space Punz left behind and Sam is sure if the spot were still filled, they’d be having some sort of childish stare off right now.</p>
<p>“Come on,” Sam opens the door for Dream, who tracks in puddles of water over the carpet. Dream beelines for his room, intent on changing his clothes from the skin-tight, sopping wet things constricting his body. Thunder rolls across the sky one more, bringing in  an even heavier downpour then before. It’s quite lucky they came in when they did. Sam moves to start a fire, knowing full Dream will come back out shivering.</p>
<p>Later that week, when Dream lets out a loud sneeze, Sam sighs in disappointment.    </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I've noticed all the drabbles I've started are just different variations of the same concept: Dream and his relationship with the prison and the potential effects it'll have. So, I changed the summary to more accurately reflect that!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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